My summer morning ritual begins with lingering in my bed as long as my body will let me. That’s generally the ridiculously “late” hour of between 7 and 8! Then I head to the kitchen where my “liquid heroin” awaits. No needles required, just a favorite cup and some hazelnut cream. My darling hubbie is able to jump out of bed and hit the floor with the energy of a 3 year old, (which I’m not capable of facing before cup #2) and has never even tasted coffee- the liquid heroin, brain juice, cup-of-Joe, java, morning starter of which he speaks!
This morning he was quiet and subdued (as everyone should be before cup #2), without his usual “top of the morning to you” animation. Life was good! And then I read my email. Nevermind the fact that health experts claim checking your email first thing in the morning is one of the most stressful day starters there is. I prefer my Deepak guided meditations in the afternoon. I hit the check mail icon and in just a few seconds I’m inundated with all the news of the day. That’s the way I like it.
The subject line was “Let Kay know my people are thinking about her,” reminding me that I’ve been blessed more than ever before this 3rd time around, with the most perfect for me, and loving husband in the world. As my biggest supporter and to aid my quest for more exposure and readership, he posts my daily blog on his Facebook page. Yesterday I wrote about my dear mother and the health battle she’s currently losing. Late last night, and unbeknownst to me, he not only had posted my blog as usual, but he’d penned his own composure melting tribute to my mom, and many of his friends had responded with thoughts and prayers for her and me.
As each of his words settled in my heart, I literally felt the love from which they were born swell up and fill to capacity, each cell of my being. At that very same moment, all the pent-up tears of helplessness, grief, and sorrow came gushing out. Sobbing convulsively, I was unable to stop for what seemed like an eternity. I love a good healthy cry, but I absolutely abhor the way I look when crying! When I felt I’d gained some semblance of composure, I walked my puffy-eyed, red-nosed, tear-stained, disguised as a strong woman but fragile self, to my love’s office. As he turned to look at me and our eyes met, the dam collapsed. I fell into his arms and blubberingly thanked him for his beautiful words. He held me tight as the waves crested and receded, again and again. The full force of the “ugly cry” was in effect again.
Whenever I cry like that, I’m overwhelmed and even tortured by an even more disconcerting emotion, that of being out of control. I envision Humpty Dumpty like pieces of me, careening off a jagged cliff. Overtaken and unable to endure my own fragility any longer, I broke our embrace, said “OK, that’s enough of that,” and walked away. The incredibly sensitive, caring, and thoughtful man, who is my husband and my best friend, understood my need, just as he always has, just as he always does.
Peace and Love